Billy Crowe sat on the edge of his bunk and watched the scar burn.

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-05-27 00:04:29 -

It had been three days since they brought him to the Cage. Three days of the same routine: wake up, eat the grey stuff they called food, work in the laundry room, eat again, sit, sleep. The walls were concrete and the windows were wire mesh and the air smelled like rust and sweat and something chemical that Billy couldn't name. The scar on his wrist pulsed. Not like a heartbeat—more like a...

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